


Dark Touch

by ladydragon76



Series: CCC [5]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 08:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> The saga continues, and Optimus gets a really good reason to be sure the drug is really destroyed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Touch

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** G1  
>  **Series:** CCC  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Optimus/Megatron  
>  **Warnings:** Non-con  
>  **Notes:** I think this was my first Optimus smut. :D Same warning as all others in the CCC ‘verse. This is old writing that I’ve tried to clean up the grammar and punctuation in. I don’t want to change too much for the sake of nostalgia, but I think I might actually still like this one.

Optimus Prime knew he rested somewhere on the edge of full recharge. He could feel how his right hand brushed the wall at the head of his berth, and how the tip of his left foot grazed the wall. So if he was lying on his right side, facing the wall, what could possibly be touching his lower back?

He came a little more awake when that touch moved to his hip and tugged. Optimus allowed himself to be rolled over, right arm staying flopped over his helm. Who would come into his quarters unannounced? He cracked open his optics but saw no one, then glanced around a little more fully.

 _Dreaming_. He grunted to himself, and closed his optics. 

It felt like he’d barely shut his optics when the touch returned, this time tracing the edge of windshield in a feather light caress. Optimus opened his optics. The touch disappeared, and there was no one there. The room was dark and still.

Optimus closed his optics again. He was too tired to bother with a thorough search. If one of his underlings were playing a prank on him, he’d deal with them in the morning.

The touch returned, but this time Optimus kept his optics closed. It felt as if just a single finger was following the outer edge of his windshield. The touch was too light for him to discern how large the attached hand might be, and it _was_ pleasant. Optimus inhaled a little deeper and relaxed, his face turned to the wall again. 

His visitor grew bolder, that single finger drifting up to the top edge of his chest plating and dipped below. It slid out to his shoulder joint, and then slowly tracked back. A second digit joined the first at his neck, and the backs of them slipped along the thick circulation line to his jaw. The caress reversed, and now the pads of four fingers swept lightly back to the top of Optimus’ chest armor and curled beneath. A soft sigh escaped unbidden, and Optimus turned his head to allow better access as the mystery hand continued its exploration to his shoulder. The touch returned to his neck, then caressed up to his jaw again.

Optimus pressed against the fingers as they worked their way over his exposed face. A second hand gently copied the caress of its partner. He gasped and arched a little as a thumb pressed firmly and slid over his lips. So often hidden from view, and even more rarely touched, his mouth was particularly sensitive.

Both hands trailed down, and the fingers curled behind his neck, the thumbs brushing back and forth along his jaw line. Optimus growled low in his throat as warm lips pressed and massaged his own. He responded in kind. _It’s been **so** long_ , he thought, and brought his hands up to hold the face pressed to his more securely while parting his lips to deepen the kiss.

Optimus thought his arms felt oddly heavy as he raised them, but ignored it. He wrapped an arm around the other mech’s neck, and pressed his other hand to the back of a smooth helm. His fingers lightly massaged around until realization struck.

Optimus jerked, gasped in shock, and shoved ineffectually against Megatron’s shoulders. “Megatron! What are you doing? Get away from me!”

Hearing the panic in his own voice, Optimus forced a calming breath. Megatron hadn’t moved, and Optimus couldn’t shove him off. His arms were heavy and weak. And damnit, but he was still rather aroused. Why wouldn’t that have gone away the instant he realized it was due to Megatron’s touch? He was disgusted.

In confusion he stopped pushing against his enemy, and blinked bright blue optics.

Megatron smiled. Red optics flared slightly in the blackness of Optimus’ quarters. “Hmm. I suppose it won’t matter if I tell you or not. You’ll hear soon enough.”

Optimus glared in irritation, and batted at the hand Megatron had brought back into play with a light caress. “How did you get in here, Megatron?”

“I’m getting to that, Prime.” A malicious grin lit the Decepticon’s face. He knocked Optimus’ hand away, and went back to touching. “Very soon you will begin to hear your Autobots screaming. Begging. Maybe even crying as the drug begins to work on them as it has you.”

Optics flared again and Optimus winced involuntarily.

“What have you done?” Panic for his troops made Optimus’ spark trip, but still the arousal didn’t die. It should have. All logic said that he couldn’t possibly want Megatron, but knowing his people, the mechs he was sworn to protect, were in danger of rape should have quashed it easily.

“Just contaminated your energon.” There was a brief pause then, “Oh, fear not, Prime.” Megatron pushed aside Optimus’ hands as they came back up again to stop the trailing, tracing and, the Autobot shuddered to realize it, erotic touch.

“No, you should fear,” Megatron reconsidered, chuckling darkly. “Fear completely. Your Autobots won’t be screaming, begging, and crying in fear, Prime. No, I’ve modified the drug. They will be begging for their release. Willing slaves to the touches of their sworn enemies. What fun is pain alone, when I can cause the ultimate humiliation?”

Optimus shook his head in denial, but no words would come.

Megatron laughed again. “Oh yes, Prime. Even you. _You_ will beg _me_ for your release. Weep for it.” The crimson optics narrowed cruelly in the dark, casting Megatron’s face into demonic shadows. “I haven’t decided yet whether I’ll grant it to you or not.”

Optimus trembled. “Never,” he swore. Then jumped as a loud shout came through the wall his quarters shared with Ironhide’s. “The twins! They’re bonded and-”

Megatron raised an optic ridge knowing the desperation Optimus felt to have tried that angle. “Oh please, Prime. You know as well as I do that there are ways around a bond to allow a merging. Do you honestly think word of those two and their reputation hasn’t reached us? Besides, drugged as they are, and with three or four of my own troops working on them, they won’t be able to resist.”

Done speaking, Megatron caught Optimus’ hands and locked them in his own, forcing their combined fists to either side of his helm so Optimus couldn’t move his face away. 

Megatron pressed down for a kiss. Optimus expected, and had braced himself for, a brutal assault. He was surprised out of resisting as Megatron only lightly brushed his mouth against his lips. Sensitized from the drug, Optimus couldn’t stop the pleasured gasp. He squeezed his optics shut, and pressed his lips tight together. Megatron chuckled, and simply changed direction, shifting to lay full length against Optimus’ body as nipped gently along jaw line and neck.

Optimus tried to think of other things, but his thoughts felt as sluggish as his limbs. Heat and little erotic pulses skittered unchecked through him. Megatron’s tongue laving at the juncture of his neck and shoulder felt entirely too pleasant. In an effort to fight back in some way, Optimus turned his face towards Megatron, trying to block access to his neck. Megatron tipped his helm, and they were kissing again. A hot tongue danced against his, and Optimus groaned despite himself. Megatron moved to more fully cover his body with his own, and hands delved confidently beneath Optimus’ armor to tweak the lines and wires. 

“Mmm. It’s far more pleasant than I expected to have you trembling under me, Prime.” Megatron’s voice was a dark purr in his audial, and Optimus shook more.

Optimus’ fought his body in an all out war, and little by little he could feel himself losing. _It’s the drug_ , he reasoned, and then growled again as Megatron nipped sharply at his lower lip. Optimus could not stop himself from gripping Megatron’s head and kissing him almost violently. 

He broke the kiss and arched, throwing his head back in pleasure, and an arm out to slap the wall as Megatron’s spark energy pulsed against him. He only just stopped his own spark from flaring out.

Megatron chuckled, and pulled his own energies back. “Ah, Prime. I am assured victory here. You are only making it sweeter with your resistance.”

“You will never get away with this, Megatron.”

“Oh, but I already have.”

Optimus struggled internally for control as his enemy stroked out to the hand against the wall and twined their fingers together in a strong hold. Optimus caught himself lifting his chin to give Megatron better access to his neck cables, and heard the resulting laughter as he quickly reversed the movement. Megatron stopped him by gripping Optimus’ jaw and forcing his face away. He licked down the cables, and darted his tongue beneath the armor at the base of Optimus’ throat. The hand holding Optimus’ slipped free and swept in a confident caress back up his arm, down his side, and to his right leg. Fingers tickled across wires, lines, and cables the entire way, causing Optimus to writhe and gasp. 

Megatron slipped his hand lower, bringing Optimus’ leg up over his hip, and dancing his fingers deftly over the tender knee servos and thick tension cables. Optimus jerked, and in defiance kicked the leg back out straight. As hard as he kicked the wall it should have hurt, but instead a ripple of pleasure flowed up his leg, causing another pleasured growl.

“So feral, Prime,” Megatron murmured against Optimus cheek before forcing their mouths together again.

Optimus swung his hand out, and it was caught in a tight grip. Megatron pressed him down. “Optimus,” he called, and strummed his fingers against the strong cables in Optimus’ shoulder.

Optimus knew he was losing, but he would _not_ beg. He forced himself deeper in to the blazing kiss to keep from speaking.

“Optimus!” was shouted this time.

Optimus broke. His hand slapped out hard against his wall again, and his spark energy flared out. Two hands gripped his shoulders tight, and he wrapped his hands around the attached wrists.

“Optimus! Wake up!” someone shouted, and he was bounced hard against his berth.

Optimus jerked, and sat up. His gaze met wide blue optics, and he fought through his surprise to rein in his spark.

Ironhide chuckled. “Pits, Prime, I thought ya were havin’ a nightmare the way ya kept bangin’ inta the wall. If I’d ’a realized what it really was, I’d‘a left ya alone.” He laughed more, and released his grip on Optimus’ shoulders. He was still smiling, but pointedly looked at the tight grip Optimus had on his wrists.

Optimus hurriedly let go, and pulled his knees up, draping his arms across them. He buried his face in his hands as he battled himself for control.

Optimus felt Ironhide shift and move. “Don’t touch me,” he warned, and received another chuckle.

Ironhide rose. It was quiet for a moment. “Ya a'right, Prime?” he asked with genuine concern.

“I’ll survive,” was the muffled response.

“A’right then.” Ironhide moved toward the door.

“Ironhide,” Optimus called, and looked up.

“Don't you worry, Prime, I won't go tellin' no-”

Optimus shook his head, cutting Ironhide off. “I appreciate that, but that’s not what I was going to say. At tomorrow’s meeting, remind me I want to discuss options for being certain the Decepticons no longer have that drug.”

He watched as Ironhide’s optics widened in sudden understanding, then with a nod, he left.

Bright light from the hallway washed Optimus’ quarters in orange light for a moment before blackness returned. Optimus scanned his room carefully, and sighed in relief to find he was truly alone.

He flopped back, careful not to hit the wall again. He was briefly tempted to bring himself to overload, but decided there’d be no way to live with the disgust of overloading to thoughts of Megatron.

Optimus turned to lie on his front side, head pillowed on his arms. He accidentally brushed his lips, and gasped. Growling in anger this time, he brought engaged the battlemask, and prayed for recharge to overtake him.


End file.
